Corruption and ideology

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Corruption and ideology

Because we’re worth it

How and why lofty ideologies cohabit with rampant corruption

Casual observers of Russian politics could be forgiven for feeling confused. On the one hand Vladimir Putin, the president, portrays himself as the helmsman of a hallowed civilisation and a moral bulwark against the metrosexual West; on the other, his cronies seem constantly to be pillaging the country. The news seems to divide between ideological (and military) grandstanding and allegations of graft.

Russia’s government is not unique in combining lofty rhetoric with greasy palms. Recep Tayyip Erdogan, Turkey’s prime minister, wants to restore the country’s lost Ottoman grandeur and burnish public morality. He has restricted the sale of alcohol and tried to ban adultery. Yet confronted with evidence of ministers on the take, he purged the police and prosecutors instead of the government: not an obviously moral response.

China’s Communist bosses rely on Maoist notions of ethical leadership and, implicitly, on a Confucian mandate supposedly bestowed by heaven for their righteousness. They pose as guarantors of order and stability – while their families amass Croesan wealth. A recent anti-corruption drive is snaring some big names without seriously disrupting the cash-flow. As Minxin Pei of Claremont McKenna College in California puts it, Chinese leaders manage to “move effortlessly between universes of extreme moralism and extreme corruption”.

Every country has its charlatans and rogues, be they light-fingered British MPs or pork-happy American congressmen. Many, whether Latin American strongmen or African kleptocrats, claim to serve their people. Hardly any admit to thieving. But there is something especially grating about leaders who push moralistic causes, thus inviting judgment of their own behaviour, while overseeing scams. Casual observers may wonder why citizens put up with the hypocrisy – and how their rulers look at themselves in the mirror.

For all the difference between these regimes, there are some common answers. They cast light on the uses of ideology and the corrosive effects of power.

Fingers in the honey

Each of these governments tries to conceal its swindles. Tame media in Turkey portray corruption allegations as the work of coup-plotters and foreign saboteurs. (In fact Mr Erdogan’s internal enemies are real – but so is the pilfering.) China punishes foreign newspapers for corruption scoops. Blowing the whistle on Russian officials can be dangerous, even fatal. In each of these countries, the citizens are mostly undeceived – and unsurprised. As in other put-upon nations, nest-feathering is widely regarded as inevitable, whatever the government’s ideological stripe. The real question is whether the corruptioneers improve their people’s living standards, too – as, for all their faults, these all have.

Elif Shafak, an eminent Turkish novelist, says that Turks “are so used to seeing officials who are both corrupt and lazy that those who embezzle from public funds, or misuse their authority to further their interests, but at the same time keep working are seen as a better alternative.” She cites an apposite Turkish proverb: “He who holds the honey is bound to lick his fingers.” Many Chinese are willing to forgive bigwigs’ sins in exchange for prosperity. After the chaos of the 1990s many Russians have, until recently, seen economic stability as reason enough to back Mr Putin.